Captive
by Sister Madly
Summary: Torture, yaoi. Ichigo has failed to rescue Orihime, and now he's trapped in Las Noches. What kind of problems await him deep in enemy territory under Aizen's watchful eye? Multiple pairings. NonCon.
1. 一 ichi

DISCLAIMER: Bleach and all related characters, settings, and plots are property of Tite Kubo and the companies which have produced it. I do not claim to own any of those things, and I do not make any money from this writing.

* * *

"Damn it!" Ichigo yelled, slamming his fists down on the metal door to the room they'd locked him in.

Minutes ago he and Orihime had joined up with the rest of the rescue group. Minutes ago he and Orihime had learned that Captains Unohana, Kuchiki, and Komamura were coming to get them home safely. And minutes ago, Aizen had sent in the remaining Espada to distract the captains and recapture Orihime; but this time they took him, too.

One second he had been joking with Rukia, and the next he'd been sonido'ed into Las Noches and thrown in here. The door was closed before he could even say a thing to Orihime, who was being dragged down the hall by another arrancar.

Ichigo whirled away from the door and paced to the other side of the room to look out the window. It was too high to see the white sand of Hueco Mundo; he could only see the moon. If he strained his ears, he thought he could hear clashing swords in the distance.

The young redhead turned back to face the door and attempted to take out his hollow mask. Zangetsu was taken from his sometime before he was put in the room. He raked a clawed hand over his face- nothing. Ichigo shouted in frustration, but it made sense that he could no longer bring out the mask. He had used too much energy in the fight with Grimmjow, and now his strength was waning.

How the hell could he let this happen? His friends had gotten badly beaten for nothing. Orihime was still a hostage of Aizen, and now so was he. They had come away from this battle worse than they had been going into it.

Ichigo walked to the door again and ran his hands along the seams. There was no handle that he could see, but there had to be some way out from the inside.

The door suddenly opened, and Ichigo barely jumped out of the way in time not to get smashed against the wall. Brown eyes met red-gold as Ichigo tried to identify who it was that stood in the doorway.

The man, taller and slimmer than Ichigo, had shoulder-length pink hair and wore what looked like the standard white outfit of Aizen's followers. Glasses were perched on his nose, and as the young boy watched, the man pushed them back up in a dignified manner, a slight smile on his face. Half-lidded eyes watched him lazily, yet at the same time, Ichigo could see a certain sharpness there.

"Hello, Kurosaki Ichigo," he said almost cheerfully, shutting the door behind him as the shinigami stood frozen like a rabbit in front of a snake.

"Who are you?" Ichigo questioned roughly, muscles tensing defensively.

"Aporro Granz Szayel, octovo Espada. I have something for you, from Aizen-sama," he said, the expression on his face never changing.

"Yeah, well you can just shove it up Aizen's - shit!" he yelped and slapped a hand over the spot on his neck Szayel had just shoved a needle into. He hadn't even seen him move. And where did the needle come from?

In the next second, he let loose a fist that landed a hit to the pink-haired espada's face. However, it barely turned his head, and he smiled at Ichigo.

"That was rude," he said mildly, "but you won't be able to do that again for a long time, so I can excuse you just this once, I think."

"What are you talking about?" Ichigo asked, suddenly breathing a little heavier. It felt like his muscles were all struggling to keep working, and he let his arms drop to his sides. His legs trembled with effort.

Szayel watched all this with satisfaction. "I injected you with a liquid I invented for your specific powers, shinigami. It will slow down your body and weaken the muscles, inducing a short coma-like sleep for precisely one half of a day. Judging by your breathing, it won't take but another minute."

Ichigo struggled to stay standing, but even he was powerless against chemicals and poisons he couldn't see. His strength gave out, and he crashed painfully to his knees, finally coming to sprawl on his back, helpless. The arrancar towered above him, smile growing as he watched the toxin take effect. Ichigo blinked, trying to keep himself aware, but once he'd closed them it was impossible to open them again. The last thing he heard was a satisfied laugh from Szayel before he lost consciousness.

* * *

Twelve hours later, Ichigo woke.

Surprisingly, he was not groggy at all. He sat up, instantly alert, to find that he'd been transferred to a different room. This one did not have a window. However, it did have a couch with abnormally large cushions, nearly as wide as a bed, which he was lying on. The room and couch were white, leading Ichigo to feel oddly colorblind. He slipped to the edge of the couch and sat hunched forward with his elbows on his knees, body feeling oddly worn out.

What had that Espada drugged him for? Just to transfer him to a different room, one, which by the lack of windows suggested, was deeper in the heart of Las Noches? Or had it been something else?

Lost in thought as he was, he did not notice the door opening to admit someone until they spoke.

"Ya shouldn' think so hard, Itchy-go. Ya look 'bout ta explode."

Ichigo turned his head to face none other than Ichimaru Gin, the uncannily fox-like ex-captain. Behind him, the door was still open.

"Hiya," Gin said with a little wave. Ichimaru Gin's perpetual smile and slanted eyes did nothing to ease his nerves.

"Why am I here?" he asked, getting straight to the point.

"Aizen-sama wants ya here," Gin answered ambiguously. "So's you're here."

Ichigo thought it would probably be useless to keep asking, so he changed his tactic.

"Where's Orihime?"

"Around," the ex-captain answered, now taking a step towards Ichigo. "Ya'd do better ta not be worryin' 'bout her, Itchy-go. Ya should worry more 'bout yourself."

Ichigo didn't get a chance to ask why as Gin took another step forward and backhanded him into the opposite wall. He only got a second to register the pounding pain in his head before Gin picked him up and shoved him against the wall, holding him there with a hand splayed across his chest. Gin punched him twice more, and already Ichigo's head was spinning. Why the hell couldn't he see him coming or react in time?

Gin's fox smile widened as blood welled up from a slit above Ichigo's eyebrow where the skin split.

"Ya see, Itchy-go, it's like this. 'Member tha' Szayel guy? Well, he gave ya this little silver band 'round your neck." To verify this, Gin's other hand went for Ichigo's neck, slipping a finger between the band and his tan skin. He gave a little tug before letting go.

"What it does," he continued, "is prevent ya from accessin' any a your reiatsu past what ya use for your zanpakutou's shikai. Tha's pret-ty clever, ain't it?"

"Bastards," Ichigo growled, and lifted his foot in a kick. Gin sidestepped it easily and slapped Ichigo again, sending him flying closer to the door. Taking his chance, the fallen fifteen year-old hopped up and ran.

Ichigo hadn't made it two feet past the threshold when Gin's sword crashed into his shoulder. He groaned as it slid through his flesh like a fish through water, and slammed him into the wall opposite the door. The back of his head made a sharp cracking noise as it made contact. The ex-captain's sword had pinned him. Suddenly Gin was standing in front him.

"Tha' wasn't a very good idea, Itchy-go. Aizen-sama won't be happy if ya run away. An' look at ya, you're all dirty now!"

Ichigo was bleeding profusely from the spot where Gin's sword was impaling him, and he thought he could feel blood oozing from the back of his head. The cut in his forehead was still bleeding as well, now having spilled into his eye and down his cheek.

"I should clean ya up b'fore Aizen-sama sees what a mess ya made," Gin whispered now, and leaned in towards Ichigo. He removed his zanpakutou and pressed the length of his body against the boy's forcibly, keeping him trapped. Ichigo inhaled sharply. He had never been this close to another human being, let alone a male.

The fox-like man bared Ichigo's bloody shoulder and leaned down, probing it with his tongue. Over the sudden yell that issued from Ichigo came another voice.

"Gin."

Ichigo, panting with the throbbing pain from his many injuries, turned his head to look at the leader of the arrancar, Aizen Sosuke.

"What are you doing, Gin?" Aizen asked.

"Itchy-go an' me was just havin' a lil' fun, righ', Itchy?" Gin's smile dimmed a bit as he stepped away from Ichigo and sheathed his zanpakutou.

"Please escort Ichigo-kun back to his rooms, Gin. Find him some new clothes and have Ulquiorra bring in Orihime-chan to heal his wounds."

"Hai, Aizen-sama."

Gin waited until Aizen had left before wrapping an arm around Ichigo's middle and carrying him back into his room. Ichigo didn't even have a chance to register how strange this was before Gin set him down in the middle of the room and left, shutting the door behind him.

"Hey!" Ichigo yelled after him. "Where the hell are you going?"

Blood was starting to drip down his legs, the slow trickle turning into an annoying itch as the blood dried. Ichigo looked around the room for something he might wipe the blood with, but his door was already opening again. This time it admitted Ulquiorra, Orihime in tow.

"Kurosaki-kun!" Orihime breathed when she saw him. A small, trembling smile graced her lips.

"Are you alright, Inoue?" he asked, scanning her body for any injuries. Of course, it was difficult to tell since she was wearing such concealing clothing.

"Of course!" she said. She opened her mouth to speak again when Ulquiorra, the cuarto Espada, said in his flat voice, "You have two minutes, girl."

His green, vaguely reptilian eyes slid toward Ichigo and he glared back.

"Tch."

Orihime began healing Ichigo, and though they didn't want to say anything in front of the Espada, their eyes spoke depths. Eventually their two minutes were up, and Ichigo offered Orihime a smile when she hesitated to leave.

"I'll be fine."

They both had a hard time believing his words.


	2. ニ ni

Ichigo fingered the thin silver band around his neck as he lay on the white couch in his room.

It had already been three days since his encounter with Ichimaru Gin. In all that time he only ever saw one of the many double-digit numbered arrancar who had been given the task of delivering his meals. With his reiatsu constantly kept at such a low point, Aizen probably didn't see a point in sending anyone stronger.

Being kept in such a confining place was tiring, as strange as it sounds. Doing nothing felt even more wearisome than fighting hollow all day. So Ichigo slept when he wasn't pacing about the room, and tried to get used to his new surroundings, not that there was much to get used to.

'His' room was small, probably no larger than fourteen by fifteen feet, and furnished only with the large couch and a small table, which was bolted down to the floor. He'd discovered a modest bath and toilet in a room off to the side once he actually took the time to look around.

What disturbed him most was the collective reiatsu of his enemies. As horrible as he was at sensing spirit power, he knew he could feel Ulquiorra and Grimmjow out there, among others he didn't much care for. It was unnerving to have someone who'd tried to kill you so close to the place you slept.

Another thing that bothered him were the new clothes and that stupid silver band. The white arrancar uniform was more like his bankai, but it felt even more skintight than that; confining. It looked exactly like Grimmjow's – _that ass_ – but for a high-necked tank top worn underneath the jacket. And the band! As if he weren't already painfully aware of being so weak, every time he turned his head he could feel it sliding smoothly against his skin.

However, there wasn't much he could do at this point. He couldn't even complain, because no one but arrancar ever came to his room.

"Not as if that's a bad thing," he muttered to himself.

The door opened.

Ichigo sat up to see Ulquiorra standing in the doorway. The cuarta espada merely glanced at him before averting his eyes back out the door as if Ichigo was not worthy of his attention.

"Come," he said in that infuriatingly calm, monotone voice. Purposefully trying to annoy the black-haired arrancar, Ichigo asked, "Why should I?"

Ulquiorra's eyes slid back to Ichigo's face.

"Aizen-sama wishes for your presence," he replied.

Ichigo thought he might as well go. After all, he might actually learn why they'd captured him. And, he thought wryly, it wasn't as if he could fight off Ulquiorra the way he was. He wasn't suicidal.

Ichigo followed Ulquiorra through the hallways, wondering how the hell anyone found their way around this place. Every hall looked the same, with no distinguishing feature in any of them. However, the silent commute was soon over and they reached a cavernous room.

As to be expected, Aizen was sitting in a large chair on a white dais, which Ichigo likened to a throne. It occurred to him that having a throne was just the slightest bit tacky on Aizen's part.

"Good morning, Ichigo-kun," Aizen greeted, chin propped in hand and a smile on his face.

"Don't act like I'm here on a social call," Ichigo spat. "Tell me why I'm here!"

"Ichigo-kun, did anyone ever teach you manners? You seem to be lacking severely." Aizen's smile slipped a bit, and he released his reiatsu, forcing Ichigo to his knees.

Ichigo slapped his hands down to the floor so he wouldn't fall on his face; they stung. Breathing was nearly impossible with such pressure weighing him down. It felt like hundreds of pounds were being applied to every inch of his body.

It was over in three seconds, but it felt like eternity. He still stood there on all fours as Aizen continued speaking.

"I expect my guests to be nothing but courteous when I show them courtesy, Ichigo-kun. You are no exception to this rule." Aizen paused, watching the young shinigami struggle to catch his breath. "However, I will answer your question. You are here because I wish it so. I want you to reconsider who you will be siding with in the upcoming war. As such, I summoned you here today to tell you that you will be free to explore Las Noches as you see fit for the next two days. After those two days, I expect an answer."

Ichigo, now standing, but leaning against one of the walls, glared at him. He hated being so helpless.

* * *

Even though it felt strange walking around in a place where he considered himself a prisoner, Ichigo took advantage of Aizen's offer if just to get out of that room. However, he wished the ex-captain had mentioned that one of the espada's fraccion would be accompanying him.

Lilinette sort of reminded him of Nel and Yachiru rolled into one. However, she was a little older, and a lot crazier. When Starrk had introduced him to her, she had hopped on him and given him a kiss on the cheek. Now she was showing him around the massive fortress.

"Ne, Strawberry, are you sad?" Lilinette asked, upside down, because she had somehow found her way onto Ichigo"s shoulders and was now leaning over his head to see his face.

Trying not to have a heart attack, Ichigo answered, "Just thinking."

"You sure?" she asked. "'Cause I could give ya another kiss ta cheer ya up!" She smiled and slid down his back, taking hold of his hand.

"Uh, n-no, I'm fine, Lilinette, I promise." Ichigo swore he would give Nel a hug when he saw her next for being so tame compared to this bundle of insanity.

"Well, how 'bout we play a game, then? Like... tag!" she exclaimed excitedly, swinging Ichigo's arm around like it was a jump rope. "Don'tcha wanna play tag, Strawberry?"

"Well, I guess, but-" Ichigo was cut off.

"Great! I'll be it! You've got ten seconds to run!" she told him, bouncing up and down.

"What?" he asked, now completely confused by the situation.

"Ten, nine, eight..."

Ichigo ran for all he was worth.

* * *

Hours later, Ichigo collapsed on his couch. Lilinette had just let him go after their eleventh game of tag because she claimed he wasn't any fun anymore. Truth was, he couldn't _move_ anymore. However, he knew he smelled and he hated wallowing in his own sweat, so the shinigami pushed himself to walk into the bathroom and take a shower. He waited a few minutes for the water to get warm, then stepped in.

He didn't like this. Ichigo had not expected to find someone as child-like and carefree as Lilinette living in Las Noches serving Aizen. He had expected all of them to be monsters like the insane Grimmjow, or the cold and callous Ulquiorra. He didn't like finding a humane side to Aizen's minions, or his cause.

After the fifth time Lilinette had caught Ichigo, she sat on top of his stomach while he tried to catch his breath. She told him about how Aizen was going to make the shinigami pay for destroying other people just because they were different. He was going to make a new world where hollows, who had thoughts and feelings too, were not automatically hunted down because of what they were. He told his children, for this is what the arrancar undoubtedly were, that he would save them and make Soul Society a better place, where all people could coexist in relative peace.

After telling all of this to Ichigo, Lilinette grabbed him by his jacket and threw him about fifty feet or so, telling him to get running already.

Ichigo had a lot to think about in the way of Aizen's side of this war. Was he in the right? Was it Soul Society that was actually corrupt?

He hated these doubts that were popping up, but he couldn't deny what he had seen or heard today. Lilinette was obviously honest with him; she just had that certain truthful feeling about her. She couldn't be the only exception here in Hueco Mundo. Nel was a prime example. If Soul Society saw her, they wouldn't take the time to get to know her. They would kill her as soon as they got the chance, and she was just as innocent as any human child, if not more so.

Ichigo turned off the shower, stepped out, and toweled down, now clean. He noticed that his dirty clothes had disappeared; a new set lay on the edge of the sink. Not lingering on how they must have gotten there, he dressed swiftly and went back into his room. A tray of food now sat on the little table. Suddenly intense hunger hit him, and Ichigo realized that he'd skipped lunch running around with Lilinette.

He ate slowly, still wondering over the new things he'd discovered about Las Noches and the arrancar. Ichigo still had another day to decide, but he was sure he already knew what choice he was going to make.

* * *

The next day, Lilinette woke Ichigo up at eight by using a feather to tickle his nose, after which she dragged him off to explore Las Noches again. She took him back to his room so he could eat lunch, but then promptly dragged him back out when he was done.

"Hey," he said, as the girl was leading him somewhere. "Lilinette, do you know where Orihime's room is? The human girl?" Ichigo didn't know why he hadn't thought of this sooner.

Lilinette stopped walking and thought, eyebrows furrowed. Then she smiled.

"Yup! I know exactly where her room is," she announced, feeling triumphant. Then she added, "But I can't take you there."

"Why not?" he almost shouted. "If you know where it is, then you should be able to take me-"

"It's not that I _won't_," she said, showing a level of understanding he didn't think she could possess, "it's that I _can't_. Ulquiorra won't let anyone see her now that she was almost taken from us. I think he's afraid of Aizen-sama getting mad at him."

"Oh." Ichigo felt like saying many things, but nothing in front of Lilinette. He frowned.

"C'mon, Strawberry!" Lilinette urged as she tugged on his hand. Reluctantly, Ichigo followed her, only half listening to her words as she babbled about Starrk and the other Espada.

There had to be a way he could see Orihime without getting his ass kicked by Ulquiorra. When he had first seen her after being captured, she didn't look very happy. She couldn't be any happier now. Since he'd been in Las Noches, he'd only see her once, and that was when he'd been injured. Ichigo wasn't sure what to do, but he really didn't want to provoke any of the arrancar into attacking him.

There had to be another way.

* * *

That night, Ulquiorra came for him again. They walked in silence to the same room, and the cuarta espada stood by the door once more. However, Aizen was not alone this time.

Ichimaru Gin was sitting on the edge of the dais Aizen's throne sat upon, swinging his feet in a childlike manner. He looked rather gleeful to Ichigo, a feeling that probably meant nothing good for him.

"Have you made your decision, Ichigo-kun?" Aizen asked.

Ichigo nodded. "Yeah."

"And?" The leader of the arrancar seemed to lean forward in his seat, as if in great anticipation.

"You can find someone else to help you with your war," Ichigo said calmly, looking the brown-haired man straight in the eye.

"I told ya he'd say that, Aizen-sama," Gin said excitedly, his ever-present fox smile broadening. "Din't I?"

"You did, Gin." Aizen looked at Ichigo once more. "Are you sure that is your answer?"

In reply, Ichigo proclaimed, "I'd never betray my friends."

"Indeed... Gin?"

"Yeah, Aizen-sama?"

Aizen smiled, and it promised a world of pain. "Don't kill him."


	3. 三 san

"Haven' ya had enough, Itchy-go?" Gin drawled with a trace of laughter.

They were still inside Aizen's throne room, but Ulquiorra had left hours before. Aizen still sat in his chair, watching the show. Ichigo was leaning up against a wall, just trying to remain upright. His jacket and shirt had been cut away, and he was covered in bruises and blood.

Gin dragged his zanpakutou across the boy's stomach, not for the first time.

"O' course ya haven'," Gin said giddily, leaning close to Ichigo's face. "B'cause yer a brave lil' boy, and if ya can handle invading the hollow world, ya can definitely handle a few cuts... can'tcha?" The zanpakutou stopped in its path across Ichigo's bloody stomach and instead traveled up his chest, leaving behind a thin line of blood. The young shinigami smacked the blade away from his chest, and his tormentor frowned, backhanding him.

Ichigo flew into the floor, head cracking against the tile. He tried to catch his breath as Gin's sword poked into his neck. He looked up at the traitor, wheezing.

"Ya don' want me ta break your arm, do ya?"

"I'm not just going to sit here and let you do this," Ichigo growled, much to Gin's amusement.

"Ya seem to be doin' just tha' already, Itchy-go."

Gin was referring to the fact that he had sliced straight through the tendons in Ichigo's legs, leaving him unable to walk, let alone run. For all effects and purposes, Ichigo _was_ just sitting there letting Gin have his fun.

"Go to hell," he spat.

"Maybe later," Gin replied, and stepped on Ichigo's forearm. He applied pressure, and smiled as a satisfying crack rang in the air. Ichigo only let loose a stifled groan.

"Why don't ya just let it out, Itchy-go?" Gin asked slyly. "Scream already; I know this hurts. Why don't ya just _scream_?" With that last word, Gin harshly ground his heel into Ichigo's broken arm, and the bones popped through the skin, glistening white in the bright light of Las Noches.

He couldn't hold it in any longer. Ichigo screamed, eyes screwed shut against the excruciating pain. Gin laughed joyfully and dipped a finger in the bloody mess he'd made of the boy's stomach. Like a child with finger-paints, he trailed the blood around any exposed skin he could find.

"I knew I could make ya scream," he purred pleasurably.

"Gin, I believe that is enough for today." Aizen appeared behind him, placing a hand on his former fukutaichou's shoulder. Gin frowned, but stepped away from the bleeding mess on the floor.

"You'll see Ichigo-kun again soon," he soothed. "Unless our guest has changed his mind about the war?"

Ichigo glared up at the two, vision blurring from the combined stabbing and throbbing pains all over his body.

"Fuck... you," he spat weakly. Aizen only smiled slightly.

"Perhaps in time," he replied ambiguously. "Orihime-chan should be here soon to heal you, Ichigo-kun. Keep in mind that this was only the first level. There are many more ways to break you if this method has failed." Aizen and Gin turned their backs on him and left the room.

"You won't!" Ichigo yelled after them. "You won't be able to do it!" He knew they wouldn't be able to break him; his will to protect was too damn strong to break under a little pain like this. He would come out of this alive and strong, and he would return to Soul Society to fight with the other shinigami against Aizen.

There was no way he could break.

* * *

Orihime followed Ulquiorra dutifully through the long and winding halls, head down and hands clasped in front of her.

He hadn't told her why she'd been summoned again; for all she knew, it was another espada that needed healing, like Grimmjow. But she secretly hoped it would be Ichigo. As much as it hurt to know they had injured him again, she needed the reassuring sight of his face, to know he was still here for her.

It was a conflicting emotion. As long as he was here, she knew they would hurt him, but still, it meant he was closer to her. She felt like a terrible person, and the feeling intensified when she saw him lying on the ground in the same room she'd once healed Grimmjow.

"Kurosaki-kun..."

She could feel Ulquiorra watching her as she ran past him to Ichigo.

He was unconscious, but his breathing pattern was relatively normal. As first, she thought he was smiling, but realized that someone had used blood to extend the line of his lips. His body was absolutely covered in welts, bruises, and cuts; his broken arm was sitting in a pool of blood. His clothes, which were no longer the black of the shinigami but the white of the arrancar, lay in stained tatters on his frame.

The girl stifled a gasp and hugged herself, tears welling up in her eyes. How could they do this to him?

Overcome with grief, Orihime held out her hands and whispered, "Soten kisshun."

She would help him as much as she could. It wouldn't be much, because, as Orihime reminded herself, she was so weak. It was her fault he was here in the first place. There had to be some way she could stop them from harming him. Someway she could convince them to let Ichigo go free. After all, she knew why Aizen wanted her, but why did they want Ichigo? Of course, he was unimaginably strong. And, as she thought back, she remembered that strange mask he had. Was that why Aizen wanted him? Even so, she knew there were Espada stronger than he. There had to be a way, because in the end, it was all her fault.

Orihime couldn't stand the thought of Ichigo getting hurt just because of her.

Ichigo spent the next three days in the bedroom he'd originally found himself in, with only Gin and his zanpakutou for company. Each day that passed brought more pain in greater amounts, delivered through increasingly unique ways. His throat was raw from the abuse to his throat; Gin wasn't satisfied unless he could make Ichigo scream.

If he passed out, Orihime was brought in to heal him, but then the pain started all over again. If he was lucky, Gin was called away by Aizen for a few hours every day. Then he could be alone with his thoughts, which was infinitely better than being alone with that sadistic traitor.

Today, Gin left almost immediately after he walked in the door, leaving Ichigo with only a single bruise to contend with.

He was lucky.

However, Ulquiorra and another arrancar entered the room only minutes after Gin left. Orihime was not with them.

The arrancar set down a tray of foot on the table and promptly left. Ravenous from three days without food, Ichigo promptly began eating food while Ulquiorra stood by the door. The Espada seemed content to stand at the opposite side of the room watching Ichigo.

As long as he was nowhere near, the shinigami had no problem with Ulquiorra.

Already finished with the meager meal, Ichigo lay back down on the couch, hands behind his head. He stared at the ceiling, and silently wondered why Ulquiorra was here. Didn't he have anything better to do than stare at him all day?

Ichigo rolled over and lay on his side. Unsurprisingly, several days of physical torture left a guy damn tired. With a yawn, he closed his eyes, planning on going to sleep.

Suddenly, a small, sharp pain erupted on his head, and his eyes shot open. Ulquiorra stood next to the couch, looking down at him in the same unaffected way. Had the bastard just pulled out some of his hair?

"I cannot allow you to sleep," he said by way of explanation.

"Why the hell not?" Ichigo asked.

"Aizen-sama believes you are not progressing with Gin's methods as he would like," he replied, monotone. "He has asked that I employ another kind."

The boy was silent. Sleep deprivation? Ha! As if a little lack of sleep could make him crack. He was used to very little sleep. After all, he fought hollows all the time in the living world, on top of school and homework.

Grinning, he said, "Whatever."

The green eyes watched Ichigo as he lay back down and resumed staring at the ceiling.

Eventually he would get tired. It did not matter that he hardly used any of his energy during the day. Soon his body would be too fatigued to function in its awakened state, and it would try to slow down to sleep. But Ulquiorra would not let that happen.

There was more than one way to cause someone pain.

* * *

Staying awake was much more difficult than Ichigo had originally thought.

The first night was easy. He had pulled all-nighters before, and though they were slightly uncomfortable and his legs kept twitching as if wanting to move, it wasn't an altogether horrible experience. Hell, it was heaven compared to Gin's ministrations.

But the second night was harder. He had spent the day pacing slowly and sitting upright on the couch. If he so much as closed his eyes for more than two seconds, Ulquiorra would deliver him a slap or a pinch; something to keep him awake.

Sometime in the early morning (his inner clock thought perhaps 4 o 'clock), an overwhelming urge to sleep crept inside him. Every few minutes he would find himself receiving a shove or punch from his watcher, jolting him further and further away from his goal; sleep.

The first few times, Ichigo fought back on instinct, but it didn't get him very far.

Ulquiorra shoved him into the wall and vowed, "If you keep lashing back, I will start cutting you when you fall asleep."

He was fed at all the normal mealtimes, but he felt hungry constantly. The skin around his forehead felt as if it was tightening, or he was wearing a hat that was too small. His hands trembled, and his vision began to blur.

He resorted to constantly splashing himself with cold water from the sink. He would have taken a shower if Ulquiorra hadn't kept following him into the bathroom; the espada had already told him if he took longer than two minutes while using the toilet, he would assume he was trying to sleep, and come in.

It was the fourth night, and Ichigo was feeling horrible. His whole body ached, and every time Ulquiorra prodded him awake, it felt like he was applying much more force than before; he was hyper-aware of every touch. His eyes were bloodshot under half-lidded, bruised looking skin, and he now had a nystagmus; the cuarta espada noticed that the boy's brown eyes would rapidly shift to the left on a regular basis.

The fifth night brought yawns, which frequently broke the silence of the room, accompanied by the occasional broken sentence from Ichigo directed at a person who wasn't in the room. Ulquiorra noted that he had mentioned a person named Yuzu, telling them that he was "perfectly fine." Another name he mentioned was Urahara. Apparently, he could no longer tell what was real and what wasn't.

The espada knew this was what Aizen was looking for.

The next time Ichigo closed his eyes as he sat on the couch, Ulquiorra did not wake him.

He went in search of Aizen.

* * *

Ichigo was having a very pleasant dream.

Orihime trailed gentle kisses up his neck to his ear, giving it a slight nibble. She giggled softly, and pressed herself against his back, running her soft hands up and down his arms.

"Ichigo-kun," she whispered softly, kissing him again.

Except it was wrong. Orihime never called him Ichigo; it was always 'Kurosaki-kun,' never mind the fact that they had been friends for months now. And if she was pressing herself against him, shouldn't she feel soft and small? The chest at Ichigo's back was hard, muscled, and larger than his. The hands now pressing painfully on his arms were rough with calluses.

"Ichigo-kun," it said again, and this time Ichigo knew who it was.

He awoke with a jolt in Aizen's arms.

They were still on the couch in his room, but somehow Aizen had managed to sit Ichigo in his lap without waking him. He was being restrained in a bruising grip that felt like fire. He had gotten maybe ten minutes sleep, tops. If possible, after that brief taste of relief, Ichigo's eyelids felt heavier, his mind hazier.

"Why are you here?" he asked Aizen drowsily, words slurring. It took all he could not to lean back on the arrancar leader's shoulder.

"You are tired, aren't you, Ichigo-kun?" Aizen asked instead. Ichigo affirmed this with a nod, eyes shutting against his will. He received a harsh squeeze to his arm, Aizen's fingers digging into his skin hard enough to bruise.

"Stay awake, now; I haven't given you permission to sleep yet." He paused to let this sink into the boy's head. "Have you thought about where you stand in the upcoming war, Ichigo-kun?"

"I won't," Ichigo mumbled. "I won't, I won't."

"That's too bad," Aizen replied, now slightly releasing his reiatsu in order to keep Ichigo awake. "If you had decided to side with me I would have let you sleep."

The shinigami groaned in longing, but even through the fog in his mind, he knew he couldn't give in. He'd rather die than join Aizen against his friends in Soul Society.

"If that is your choice then." Aizen shoved Ichigo from his lap, sending him crashing into the table. Blood trickled slowly from a new cut on Ichigo's forehead, but even so, his eyes slid closed and he fell asleep right on the floor.

Aizen stood and left the room, frowning. Ulquiorra stood waiting for him in the hall.

"Ulquiorra."

"Hai, Aizen-sama?"

"Let him sleep for a few hours; just enough to make the boy aware of what is happening." Aizen smiled now, and began walking down the hall. "Then you may proceed with the next method we discussed," he called over his shoulder. "Bring along one of your brother or sisters if you wish. Ichigo-kun is close to where we want him."

"Hai," Ulquiorra responded, looking more serious than usual. "Aizen-sama."


	4. 四 shi

As he sat and watched the monitor that showed Ichigo's room, Aizen's thoughts briefly turned to Orihime Inoue. It had actually been the little girl who had inspired the next step in Ichigo's breaking.

Five days ago, before Ulquiorra began denying the boy his sleep, Orihime had requested to see Aizen. Slightly surprised, the cuarta Espada complied. Perhaps the girl had broken?

But no, he thought- she was determined. He could see it in the steely glint of her grey eyes.

When he presented her to Aizen, Ulquiorra lingered. What had possessed her to seek out the leader of the arrancar?

Aizen chuckled to himself. He could still hear Orihime's sweet voice raised passionately as she asserted herself, the first time since she'd been in Las Noches. Unsurprisingly, it was on the behalf of another.

"Aizen-sama," Orihime had begun, "please stop hurting Kurosaki-kun."

"Why, Orihime-chan?" he'd inquired kindly.

"Kurosaki-kun..." She paused. "Kurosaki-kun won't join you if you hurt him like that!" she yelled, tears forming in her eyes. "I know him. So please, stop. If you must... must do this, try convincing him in another way! Just don't hurt Kuroskai-kun anymore!" This girl, now trembling in front of him, would not fight for herself, but she would fight for this boy.

Idly he thought, she must love him. It might be beneficial to let one of his subordinates work on that; after all, as long as she was loyal to someone not among Aizen's followers, there was still that spark of defiance that might rear its head. He would have someone crush that lingering bit of hope. But in the meantime, this girl's words sparked a thought.

"What would you have me do, Orihime-chan?" Aizen asked, a kindly smile on his face. Beneath the façade, his brown eyes coldly calculated the young girl in front of him.

"Be nice to Kurosaki-kun," she said, now timidly, shrinking back in on herself with fear.

Be kind, hm? Would it work? Breaking him with kindness? With gentleness?

... With pleasure?

He grinned, though it was softened so as not to alarm the girl.

"Thank you, Orihime-chan. You have aided me in seeing how cruelly I was treating our guest." Aizen paused for effect. "Ichigo-kun will no longer be hurt while in my care; I swear it." Obviously he was lying. But the girl believed it.

"Thank you, Aizen-sama!" she squeaked before being led away by Ulquiorra. As his fourth espada looked back at him, Aizen gave him a look that promised talk later. He knew exactly how to break Kurosaki Ichigo now. To think it took a silly girl like Inoue Orihime to make him see it.

Aizen turned his thoughts back to the present, and faced the monitor as the sound of a door opening was relayed to him. Fingers curled around the edge of the armrest as he watched his espada entering the room and approaching the blissfully unaware redhead.

This would break the stubborn boy. He was sure of it.

* * *

"Wake up, shinigami."

A shoe-clad foot pressed down harshly on Ichigo's thin chest, thrusting the air from his lungs. The boy woke gasping for breath, eyes flying open to take in the form standing above him.

Grimmjow grinned widely, eyes narrowed as he stared at Ichigo. Behind him stood Ulquiorra.

"G-Grimmjow," he coughed out, glaring in return to the insane smile thrown his way. The blue-haired espada reached down and picked him up by the front of his shirt. Surprisingly, he simply set Ichigo on his feet and stepped back next to Ulquiorra, hands in his pockets.

Ichigo stood, swaying slightly. He was still exhausted from days without sleep; what fresh new hell had they devised this time? With Grimmjow there, it seemed likely that he was going to get more of Ichimaru Gin's treatment. Ichigo winced at the very thought.

But what would going from violence to non-violence, back to violence again do? It was too simple for Aizen.

There had to be something else.

"Are you still resistant to Aizen-sama's offer?" Ulquiorra inquired calmly. All three already knew what his answer would be.

Ichigo scoffed. "I've already told you; I won't betray my friends."

"That is... unfortunate," the cuarta espada murmured. "Grimmjow?"

Ichigo couldn't even see it coming. The sexta espada backhanded him into the couch, and suddenly both arrancar were towering over him.

"Aizen-sama wants him uninjured, Sexta. Be more careful," Ulquiorra reprimanded.

"Tch. I'm allowed to rough him up a little, _Cuarta_." Grimmjow's intense blue eyes never left Ichigo's face.

"What the hell are you two talking about?" Ichigo growled. The two were acting very strangely. He felt like a kid again, and the "grown-ups" were busy talking about things he couldn't know yet. It was more than a little frustrating.

Ulquiorra leaned a little closer to Ichigo and said, "Aizen-sama is displeased, Kurosaki Ichigo." The boy in question appeared surprised. Was this the first time Ulquiorra had ever referred to him by name? And why was he getting so close to him? Physical contact in battle was nothing strange. You had to get close to your enemy to fight them; this Ichigo knew. Why now, in the furthest place from battle, was Ulquiorra nearly touching him?

Ichigo shifted further away from the white-skinned arrancar.

"What? I'm not breaking quite the way he planned, is that it?" Ichigo asked with a faked laugh.

"Precisely," the espada replied, now perched on the couch, closer. "Now you will answer for it."

The cocky smile dropped from Ichigo's face.

"Grimmjow."

The shinigami didn't even wait to see what Grimmjow was supposed to do, and kicked out at him as soon as he was in range. It was like kicking a brick wall; painful and ineffectual.

Grimmjow laughed, and climbed on the couch behind Ichigo's head. Grabbing the boy's thin wrists, he yanked them above his head and held tightly.

"Get the hell off of me," Ichigo growled, twisting within Grimmjow's grasp.

"These are our orders," Ulquiorra told him. Ichigo looked at the other man, who was now kneeling by his feet. "Unless you join Aizen-sama, we cannot stop." His cold, green eyes settled on Ichigo's face as he undressed.

Ichigo watched in growing horror as he realized what was happening. The espada undressed carefully, draping his jacket and hakama on the back of the couch. Grimmjow tightened his hold on Ichigo's wrists in anticipation.

"Don't you _fucking_ touch me, you sick fuck!" he yelled, kicking his feet in Ulquiorra's direction. His kicks made contact, but the arrancar was unaffected; after all, why should he? Ichigo could barely harm him when he was at his best. With his reiatsu suppressed like it was, he stood very little chance of hurting him. Still, he wouldn't give up.

"This was _your_ choice, Kurosaki," Grimmjow reminded him. The shinigami could hear the naked glee in his voice.

Ulquiorra leaned forward and untied the sash holding Ichigo's hakama, sliding the fabric from tanned skin. The boy beneath him kicked out, this time aiming for Ulquiorra's head, but the espada easily caught his legs and held them still. Slowly, he unfastened Ichigo's jacket and shirt. The boy blushed when the cool air touched his exposed body.

Fingers as cold and hard as steel grasped his thighs, the espada's unfeeling eyes never leaving Ichigo's face.

"Stop." He tried to ignore the tremulous tone to his voice.

"I cannot," Ulquiorra stated coldly, gripping Ichigo's hips with enough force to bruise bones. There would be no effort to make this pleasanter for Ichigo. It was, after all, meant to be persuasive, and nothing was more persuasive than the fear of pain.

The espada lifted the shinigami's hips to a proper level, and in one swift thrust, he entered the boy.

The pain was enough to make Ichigo cry out. His spine arched as the pain from his backside radiated upwards, spreading to every nerve in his body. It was a disturbing feeling, being filled up one moment and then nearly empty the next, in a part of his body that Ichigo never used for anything more than going to the bathroom. He grit his teeth, trying to ignore whatever was dropping hotly between them, while Ulquiorra found a steady pace. In, out, in out, in out.

Like breathing, Ichigo thought with a short burst of hysterical laughter. The laugh turned into a sharp inhalation of pain mixed with shame. An unconscious groan escaped his lips as he pulled at his arms, still caught in Grimmjow's grasp, but the other arrancar held him tightly. He tried moving away from Ulquiorra, struggling somehow, but it only made the sensations amplify.

He abruptly stopped moving.

Ichigo squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block all feeling below his waist. This wasn't happening, this _couldn't_ be happening. He had never dreamed of Aizen going this far to persuade him to his side. He wasn't worth this much trouble... this much perversion.

The pain was nearly unbearable now; he could easily imagine the couch beneath him stained brightly with blood. Ichigo hated to hear his pained cries ringing out with every thrust, but he would not beg. He would not give in, even if it killed him.

Unshed tears burned at the corners of his eyes.

Gradually, he became aware of the rising pleasure. The pain was still very much present, but now every plunge of Ulquiorra's hips sent a little jolt of pleasure through his body. Even he couldn't miss his growing erection.

Grimmjow's mouth slipped upwards into a cruel, mocking smile. His blue eyes bore into Ichigo's, and the redhead knew exactly what the arrancar was thinking.

"No," he whispered harshly, glaring at the espada.

It's not me, Ichigo told himself. He couldn't possibly enjoy this. It was his traitorous body, not him, _notnotnotnot_.

It was almost a relief when he felt the sudden wetness between his thighs. It was over, and he had, in a way, won the battle.

Nonetheless, he felt tired, used, and guilty. Ulquiorra pulled out and dropped Ichigo back to the couch. The espada dressed swiftly, and went to stand in a corner of the room.

Beneath half-lidded but frantic eyes, Ichigo gazed blearily at the arrancar. He ignored the various sensations still coming from below his waist. Behind him, Grimmjow was shifting around; he still hadn't let go of his arms. They were numb, like he wished everything else was.

"Was that it?" the boy asked, trying to put up a tough front. Inside he felt like crawling into a hole somewhere and never coming out.

Ulquiorra watched him with apathetic green eyes. Something wet and warm trailed along Ichigo's cheek, and his breath caught.

"You should have killed me when you had the chance, Kurosaki Ichigo," Grimmjow whispered, laughing.

A scream resonated from the monitor.

Aizen smiled.


	5. 五 go

Ichigo lay where Grimmjow had left him, flat on his back behind the couch, staring up at the ceiling. He could only be thankful the rug was soft.

After a few moments, he touched two fingers to his stinging lips. Ichigo ignored the slight tremor of his hand as he brought his fingers into sight; they were wet with blood. Closing his eyes, he let out a sigh, bordering on a sob.

He had to get up. It was likely there was some sort of surveillance in his room; Ichigo would not give them the satisfaction of knowing they had hurt him. He wouldn't let them know he was completely shell-shocked from what had just happened.

From what Ulquiorra and Grimmjow had done to him.

From the rape.

Ichigo slammed his fist into the ground, face fixed into a frown. No- he wouldn't think about it like that, _couldn't_ think about it like that.

Bracing himself, Ichigo slid into an upward position, holding onto the back of the couch for balance as he stood. Pain blossomed as he used muscles that had been abused in the last few hours. His entire body was aching, some places more than others.

Carefully and slowly, he made his way into the bathroom.

As much as he appreciated it, he almost wished it wasn't there. It was a lie; a blatant, _fucking_ lie. It was a luxury, as were the decent meals Aizen provided him, and it was in direct contradiction to the way the arrancar treated him. Tortured, but able to access a functioning shower. It was almost comical. It would be easier if they kept him chained in a cell, and fed him scraps only rarely. Then Ichigo could hate Aizen unreservedly. As it was now, the way he was being kept confused him. Of course, it would probably change as soon as he thought about what had happened. Right now, he was content to leave his mind silent and numb.

Ichigo turned the shower on as hot as it could go, and stepped in. The water spilled on his skin, deliciously warm, churning steam into the air. The heat partially soothed his throbbing muscles.

The shinigami washed himself with no rush, and then simply stood under the spray of the showerhead. He only got out when he began to feel nauseous from the intense heat.

With a towel wrapped around his waist, Ichigo was about to step back into the room when the mirror caught his eye. It was fogged over, but that was easily fixed.

Did he really want to see how he looked? No, he decided, but he should. It would help him fortify his will against Aizen's efforts to see what his followers had done to him.

Ichigo picked up another towel, wiped the mirror clear of its thin sheen of water, and looked into its reflective surface.

As he had noted before, the skin of his lips were split; in the back of his mind, he noted it must have been when Grimmjow kissed him, or rather, bit him. His left eye was black and blue, and slightly swollen; when Grimmjow had punched him into the wall. There were small, dark circles painted down and across his neck; hickeys, Ichigo's mind substituted. Not bruises. He wished they were bruises.

Scrapes and scratches ran down, across, and around his chest. There was even a bite mark on his shoulder. On his arms, only a few bruises and cuts were to be found. Ichigo's eyes traveled down as he took note of every injury. Bruises on his stomach. Dark indents on his hips where Grimmjow had held him down, disappearing beneath the towel.

Abruptly, Ichigo turned from the mirror and walked back into his room. He froze mid-step as he caught sight of auburn hair and grey eyes.

Inoue Orihime stood by the low table, hands clasped, looking fearfully at the bloodstains on the carpet and couch. At the sound of his footsteps, she turned to look at him.

He couldn't move. His brown eyes were wide, heart thumping dangerously in his chest. Even though he'd just gotten out of a warm shower, his skin felt cold and clammy.

What would Orihime think, seeing him like this? Ichigo was usually covered in bruises and cuts after fighting, but there was no way he could explain the hickeys or bite. He hadn't thought they would bring her in to heal him; his injuries weren't life threatening. Why would they bring her here? He hadn't expected to see her so soon after, after...

"Get out."

"K-Kurosaki-kun?" she asked, as if she hadn't understood what he was saying to her.

"Get out," Ichigo told her again, eyes averted.

"But, Kurosaki-kun, you're hu-"

"Get out!" he screamed at her. Orihime jumped, eyes wide. There was a brief moment of hesitation, before the wild look in his eyes convinced her to run from the room, door slamming shut behind her.

Ulquiorra seemed unperturbed that Ichigo had refused treatment, and led her away, back to her room. Orihime followed reluctantly, looking back at Ichigo's door. With a quiet sigh, she turned forward, face tilted down as she thought.

Ichigo had yelled her maybe once or twice before, during battles when he wanted her to get back from a fight. He had never yelled at her like that before; like he was genuinely mad. Or was she mistaking it for another emotion? He looked angry, but there was something else, like another emotion just beneath the surface. What could have happened to make him yell at her?

Maybe... he blamed her for having been caught himself? The thought caused tears to build up in her eyes. Ichigo never said anything about blaming her for his being in Las Noches. But it wasn't out of the question, was it? As it was, it was practically her fault that he was being hurt. No, it _was_ her fault. It was her fault that Ichigo was being tortured.

Ulquiorra ignored the sobs of the human girl as they walked.

Back in his room, Ichigo watched the door, as if expecting Orihime to come back in at any moment. The irrational anger had drained out of him as quickly as it had come, leaving his shoulders slumped and an unbelieving look on his face.

He was an idiot; no, _a fuckup_, of epic proportions. Ichigo had just chased away the only person in Las Noches that cared about his wellbeing. But it was necessary, he reminded himself numbly. She would have been suspicious of the marks on his body. It was easier to keep her away where she couldn't ask him questions, or look at him with those sad grey eyes. It was easier to push her away so she couldn't see the hurt inside his eyes.

Easier, he thought. But that didn't mean it didn't hurt.

* * *

In another part of Las Noches days later, Aizen Sosuke and Ichimaru Gin sat watching a monitor that displayed Ichigo's room.

Without taking his eyes from the screen, Sosuke asked, "What do you think, Gin?"

Gin turned his everlasting smile to his lord and said, "I thin' I'd like ta play wi' Itchy-go 'gain soon." There was a pause before he added, "Looks like 'e won' last much longer."

Sosuke made a slight noise of affirmation to his subordinate's words. After a moment, he stood and began walking out of the room. Startled, Gin called out, "Where ya goin', Aizen-sama?"

"To see Ichigo-kun," he replied. Gin could almost hear the grin in his voice.

* * *

Ichigo stood leaning against a wall in his room. Sitting, he'd discovered, was painful. So was walking. Lying down wasn't terrible, but when he did, he fell asleep almost immediately. When he fell asleep, he dreamed about _it_. He didn't want to dream, no matter how tired he was.

So standing was his only option. It kept him awake, and it wasn't as painful as sitting. All in all, Ichigo thought it was his best option.

When the door opened, he only shifted his gaze to see who would come through this time. Ulquiorra again? Or Grimmjow? Maybe it was Ichimaru Gin.

Aizen Sosuke stepped through the door, settling his eyes on the boy in the corner of the room. He appeared tired, dull, and beaten. But when his own brown eyes reached the boy's, he was almost pleased to discover that the spark, the _defiance_, was still there.

"Ichigo-kun, why are you refusing treatment for your injuries?" he asked, with an inflection that suggested curiosity. The boy in front of him was silent, but his eyes flashed with suppressed anger. Sosuke loved it.

The arrancar lord didn't even have to use shunpo to move in front of Ichigo and appear as if he'd teleported. His sudden presence startled the boy, and he nearly jumped. However, he held his ground, even as Aizen towered above him, body much larger than his own. Ichigo didn't know it, but he'd made things much easier for the man standing in front of him.

Suddenly, there was a bruising grip on his arms, and lips against his mouth. Ichigo's eyes flew open wide as he struggled against the arrancar leader's hold. Dark eyes bore into the boy's lighter brown, and he shuddered in Aizen's grasp at the coldness reflected in them.

The kiss only lasted a moment before Sosuke pulled away, smiling still. Now there was a more sinister feel to it.

"Come, Ichigo-kun," he said, "I will take you to Orihime-chan to be healed."

Briefly, the shinigami wondered if resisting would do any good. As if sensing his thoughts, Aizen squeezed his arm lightly; to Ichigo, it felt like if he pressed any harder his arm would break.

"Fine," he mumbled, eyes turned away from Aizen.

"Wonderful," Aizen murmured, watching him.

* * *

On the way to Orihime's room, Ichigo took careful note of every twist and turn they took, committing the route to memory.

For when his friends came to get them, he thought. He had to think they would come; he didn't even entertain the idea that they wouldn't come for he and Inoue. After all, they'd come when it was just Inoue. Now that he was in Las Noches too, it was doubly important that they come.

They would come.

All too soon, he and Aizen arrived at Orihime's room. Ulquiorra stood outside, presumably to make sure she didn't escape.

Ichigo felt a surge of anger at the sight of the fourth espada. After what he'd done, he didn't think he'd ever stop being angry at him. Still, he was more helpless than a kitten right now. Absurdly, he kept Aizen between he and Ulquiorra, almost unconsciously, as if the ex-captain would save him if Ulquiorra should decide to molest him again.

Aizen chuckled internally at every move the boy made. Ichigo was turning out to be more of a distraction than he'd initially thought. He was glad he'd given the order to capture him, even though it had been little more than a whim at the time.

Sosuke stopped walking and opened the door. Stepping to the side, he held out a hand and gestured to the room. Hesitantly, Ichigo walked in, and the door shut behind him.

Orihime sat on a couch similar to the one in his room, hands settled in her lap. She looked surprised to see him there.

"Hey, Inoue," Ichigo said softly. He tried to smile, but it came out strained.

"Kurosaki-kun," she answered, voice timid. She sounded as if she'd been crying. Immediately, Ichigo's thoughts went to the arrancar standing outside her door.

"Are you alright?" he asked urgently, walking over to her now. He kneeled next to her, intending to spot any bruises or injuries that might suggest something had happened. However, he winced as he did so; obviously kneeling wasn't something he should do at that time.

Without hesitating, Orihime summoned Baigon and Lily to heal him. Ichigo thanked the gods Inoue didn't need to know what exactly the injuries were in order to heal them.

"Are you alright?" he repeated once she'd healed him.

"Of course," she whispered, looking away from him. "I'm fine."

Ichigo was confused. Why was she being so short with him? He couldn't see any physical injuries on her. What could have happened to change her personality so much?

Ichigo clenched his jaw. "Inoue-"

"Ichigo-kun."

The boy in question turned to the door. Aizen stood there, looked coolly pleased with himself.

"It is time to return to your room now," Sosuke told the boy.

Reluctantly, but not without some relief, Ichigo rose from his spot on the floor. With one last look at Orihime, he left, following Aizen.

Nearly five minutes after Ichigo had begun following Aizen through the halls, he realized they were not traveling the same path they used to get to Orihime's room.

The waves of fear, annoyance, and confusion rolling off the young shinigami behind Sosuke were delicious. His confusion didn't matter. They'd already reached their destination.

Faster than Ichigo could keep track of, Aizen opened a door they'd just walked in front of, and shoved him inside. He followed at his own pace, shutting the door behind them. The shove had thrown Ichigo onto the floor. He lay sprawled on his stomach, dazed from the sudden change in altitude. While he tried to catch his breath, he saw Aizen walk past him, traveling further into the room. Wheezing, he lifted his head, supporting his body by bracing a forearm against the cold tiled floor.

Aizen had made his way to a large four-poster bed, and seemed to be leaning over something. When he moved away, Ichigo's breath caught.

Ichimaru Gin was lying on the bed, smiling his fox grin. His zanpakutou, and several other smaller knives, sat beside him, and he was staring at Ichigo with open, blood red eyes. Next to his fukutaichou, Sosuke smiled pleasantly at Ichigo, caressing Gin's neck.

"Welcome to th' heart a Las Noches, Itchy-go," Gin chirped.


	6. 六 roku

Ichigo swallowed, nearly audibly. His mind raced to keep up with this development. He had no illusions that Gin wouldn't use the knives on him; after all, he'd done it before. But that wasn't what he had a problem with. It could be no coincidence that Aizen had taken him to a room with a bed in it. He obviously knew what his two espada had done, hell, _ordered_ to be done. The ex-captain obviously also knew what an impact it had on Ichigo, and now he was going to do it again. Brown eyes flicked nervously towards the door.

"Aw, c'mon, Itchy-go," crooned Gin, now suddenly squatting next to him on the floor. "Surely ya don' wan' ta leave so soon?" The silver-haired man's red eyes stared at Ichigo unblinkingly.

Ichigo licked his dry and cracked lips, eyes still darting from side to side like a caged animal. "Take me back to my room," he choked out. His palms were starting to sweat, and Ichigo struggled to regain a calmer attitude. As if it just occurred to him, he scrambled into a sitting position and leaned father away from Ichimaru. With a slight 'tsk' under his breath, Gin darted forward and grabbed Ichigo's wrist and dragged him to the bed. Despite his struggles, Ichigo was shoved to sit on the edge of the bed, and immediately, Gin's mouth fell onto his.

The ex-captain leaned against him, pressing Ichigo into the bed. Unprepared for the sudden assault, the teen below him let out a groan, eyes wide open and staring frightfully into Gin's. He placed his hands against the man's chest and pushed, even though he knew it would do little good. He'd have tried kicking him if his legs weren't trapped.

A tongue forced its way into Ichigo's mouth and licked the side of his cheek. Gin moaned, and Ichigo froze all motion. Gin's obvious erection was pressed directly into Ichigo's crotch, and the man rotated his hips on the teen's. Behind Gin, Ichigo could see Aizen running his hands along his vice-captain's body. His hands slid down Gin's neck, massaging, and disappearing under his jacket. Another noise sounded from Gin, sending vibrations through Ichigo's mouth.

The tongue in his mouth disappeared and Ichigo sighed mentally in momentary relief. It didn't last long when he found that Gin had other ideas now, and began undressing Ichigo. With sloppy, hasty movements, he deprived the boy his clothing, while at the same time Aizen undressed both himself and his subordinate. Ichigo watched almost numbly as Aizen trailed kisses down Gin's neck. When Gin moved away to remove Ichigo's pants, the teen took his chance and struck out with his foot, as hard as he possibly could. Surprisingly, he made contact with Gin's stomach, and almost knocked the man over. However, Gin just smiled pleasantly at Ichigo, not without a hint of another expression, one that Ichigo feared. It promised pain later, after they had finished here.

That look, combined with what Ichigo knew was going to happen, pushed him over the edge. Anger, which had been intermingling with the fear of the moment, overflowed, filling his mind, body, and soul. The hands on his chest, the body pressed against him, the lips caressing him fueled his newfound anger. It combined with the fear, creating a sudden burst of panic that filled Ichigo's head, blocking out all rational thought. Despite the inhibitor, he could feel his reiatsu rising, trying to push out beyond the confines it was limited to. The pressure building up inside of his small body was painful, yet enjoyable all the same, and it felt against all corners of Ichigo's body, searching for a way out. Suddenly, the pressure crested, and for one delicious moment, Ichigo felt completely at one with himself, the first time since he had mastered his hollow. Then the pressure was gone, pouring out of him in large waves, and crashing through the room.

The abruptness with which Ichigo went from having very little reiatsu to an incredibly large amount shocked even Gin and Sosuke. For a moment, they were stunned, motionless. When they regained themselves a split second later, the boy was gone.

Ichigo shunpo'ed out of the room, silently thanking the gods for this single stroke of luck. The panic in him was receding, being replaced with a sense of hot determination and the will to fight. He was half naked and felt vulnerable because of it, but Zangetsu had materialized on his back with the release of his reiatsu. Ichigo felt better than he had in a long time since being brought to Las Noches; stronger, even. It was like all the reiatsu that would have been leaking out of him during the past few weeks had been stored up, and now he had a seemingly unlimited amount at hand.

Immediately after escaping the room, he'd come up with a general plan of action. Ichigo would go to Orihime's room, fight off Ulquiorra, and then they'd escape Las Noches. With the amount of sprit power he had now, it would be impossible to fail. Grinning at the thought, Ichigo turned up in front of Orihime's room, and, spotting Ulquiorra, simultaneously went into bankai and let loose a getsuga tensho. The cuarta espada barely had time to register the black and red mass of dark energy hurling towards him before it hit.

When the dust cleared, Ichigo was smugly pleased to see Ulquiorra rendered bleeding and unconscious from the blow. It was testimony to how very much power Ichigo had at the moment. Still, he had a long way to go before he was free of this hellhole.

Quickly, he entered Orihime's room. She was sitting on the couch, looking dazed and surprised, due to the fact that Ichigo was now walking through a hole in her wall.

"Kurosaki-kun!" she exclaimed. "What's happening?"

"No time to explain," Ichigo told her, kneeling next to the couch. "Get on my back; we're getting out of here."

At his words, the girl wasted no time and scrambled up on his back, hooking her legs around his waist and holding onto his shoulders. Ichigo waited just long enough to make sure she had a secure hold before using shunpo to begin the race for an exit into Hueco Mundo.

* * *

"Shit," Ichigo cursed. They had ended up at a dead end again, for what seemed like the thousandth time. "Shit, shit, _shit_!"

Frantically, Ichigo turned back and tried to find another exit. He and Orihime had been trying to find a way out of the labyrinth that was Las Noches for ten minutes now with no luck. Ichigo knew that Ichimaru and Aizen would find them soon. It was miraculous they hadn't already shown up, but Ichigo's vast amount of energy seemed to be making him faster. It was likely due to that reason only they had outmaneuvered the two ex-captains for so long.

"Kurosaki-kun," Orihime pleaded from atop his back. She was frightened by the way he was acting. Ichigo had always done his best to be brave and calm-faced when with Orihime, and this sudden panic he was exhibiting worried her to no end. What had happened to Ichigo to make him like this?

"What?" he snapped, regretting it immediately when she whimpered. He was expecting her to keep quiet, but after a moment she said, "It's just, I don't think this is working. Maybe we should go back."

"What are you talking about, Inoue? There's still ti-"

"Yeah, Itchy-go. Why don' ya listen to your girly there and head back like a good boy?" the mocking voice of Ichimaru Gin rang out. Ichigo returned his attention to the end of the hallway and saw the fox-faced shinigami standing there, presumably to block Ichigo's exit. Aizen was nowhere in sight, but that would probably change soon when he sensed all three reiatsu together.

Upon the appearance of Gin, Ichigo's muscles tensed painfully under Orihime; the muscles of his shoulders and torso felt like carved diamond beneath her fingertips. With trepidation, Orihime slowly slid off of his back and stepped away. In front of her, Ichigo stood for a moment more before disappearing in a blur. The thundering clash of metal against metal boomed yards away as swords clashed. Orihime watched fearfully from the sidelines as the two fought the fight between captor and captured.

Aizen watched unnoticed as Gin and Ichigo battled. He had always thought Ichigo's power level and unrestrained fighting style somewhat impressive, but now the boy truly _was_ impressive. More than impressive really, when at this very moment he was bearing down on Gin. Ichigo's thin black sword pressed against Gin's, ever closer to Gin's body. Even his vice-captain's strength paled in comparison to the massive waves radiating off of his opponent.

Would he have to intervene, he wondered? It was entirely possible that Gin would fall in the face of such raw power and determination. Of course, underlying that determination was a deep well of panic, waiting to overflow and bury Ichigo's thin resolve. Yes, his willpower to escape at the moment was an extraordinarily powerful thing; but the horror of his stay in Las Noches had left a significant impression on Ichigo's soul. That horror was so strong, so potent, that it would have the power to halt Ichigo in his spot if raised. Aizen wouldn't even need to physically confront Ichigo if Gin could not handle the boy; all he would need to do is bring that horror to the surface of Ichigo's mind. Then, the panic would overwhelm him and it would be over.

* * *

Ichigo jumped back from Gin's sword as it sliced a path through the air, and flung an energy blast in his opponent's direction. The fox-faced man was quick to evade it, but Ichigo noticed with some satisfaction that the edge of his coat had been singed. He had almost hit him. Fighting Gin and actually disabling him was harder than Ichigo had expected it to be. They'd been fighting for a good ten minutes, and if he'd been fighting any lesser opponent, it would have been over already. Even with all the power he had at his disposal, Gin was able to match it. Nearly.

Ichigo smiled a grim smile, catching an opening. He sped up to Gin, faster than the other man could see, and shoved his sword through his stomach. The look of shock on Ichimaru's face was priceless, and Ichigo laughed a short, harsh, hysteric laugh. He kicked the ex-captain's body off of his sword and focused on channeling all his spiritual pressure on top of Gin, suffocating him. It seemed to work because the ex-captain didn't get up. Ichigo pressed his heel into Gin's wound, and twisted. The boy's eyes met Gin's as he lifted his sword, higher, higher, before he swung down.

Fingertips ghosted over the boy's hips. Ichigo froze, sword halfway to Gin's neck. As the fingertips moved up and down his chest, before slowly coming to his groin, Ichigo's eyes widened in pure, undiluted terror. He dropped Zangetsu as if it had burned him, letting it clatter to the floor, and looked down at himself. He could see nothing, but why did he feel like someone was touching him? As he tried to make sense of it, one of the invisible hands grasped his member and squeezed, while the other trailed to his backside, mimicking, Aizen knew, what Grimmjow had done to him only a few days earlier.

As a finger inserted itself into his entrance, Ichigo fell back and away from Gin, who was now sitting up and watching the boy with unconcealed amusement. Knowing his lover's mind, Gin could tell that Ichigo was being affected by Aizen's zanpakutou. With it, Ichigo had been transformed from a warrior ready to kill into a trembling, wide-eyed child. Gin grinned at the young man, sending him into a further frenzy.

"Stop!" he screamed, simultaneously swatting at the hands he could not see and crawling away from Gin. "Stop _touching me_!"

Orihime, who had begun running towards them when Ichigo dropped Zangetsu, cried out, "Kurosaki-kun!" She went to kneel beside him, but before she could even touch the ground, Ichigo's hand, clenched into a fist, came flying at her face. She was so shocked, she couldn't move until it was too late; Ichigo's fist pounded into her cheek, sending her back a few feet to lay on the ground. As she sat up, tears in her eyes and a bruise rapidly forming, Aizen ceased the illusion and revealed himself. Ignoring everyone else, he removed his sword from its sheath and placed it at Ichigo's neck. He savored the look of terror in the brown eyes that turned up to look at him.

"T'day doesn't seem like the best time to spend time wi' Itchy-go after all," Gin commented as he rose to stand next to Sosuke. The hole in his chest was already closing.

"It would seem so." Aizen smiled at Ichigo, and the look of fear on his face multiplied tenfold. "You haven't been on your best behavior today, Ichigo-kun."

Ichigo swallowed, and, still affected by the illusions, stuttered, "I-I... I wasn't..."

"Yes, you were, Ichigo-kun. And you have caused harm to my other guest." Aizen directed Ichigo's attention to Orihime, still curled in on herself on the floor.

Ichigo's eyes widened further, taking in the bruise on her cheek, as large as his closed hand, and the look of unadulterated fear on her face; fear of him. He stretched out a hand, but let it fall to his side when she flinched away from him.

"Inoue..."

"Ulquiorra." Ichigo turned around to see the named espada walk towards the group.

"Hai, Aizen-sama."

"Escort Ichigo-kun and Orihime-chan to Ichigo-kun's rooms. I believe it's time they visit together." Sosuke didn't trouble to hide his unkind smile, or see his order carried out; he left the hall with a rapidly healing Gin to see to his other plans.

"Stand," Ulquiorra commanded the two humans still sitting on the floor. Orihime, used to trying to please those around her, stood quickly. Though he was still stunned enough that disobeying Ulquiorra's orders never even entered his head, Ichigo stood as slowly as he could. At the beginning of their confinement in Las Noches Ichigo would have given anything to stay in the same room with Orihime for more than a handful of moments. But now, after everything that had happened, and especially after the last few moments....

He turned regretful eyes to the purple and blue mark on the girl's cheek as they followed Ulquiorra to his rooms. Ichigo would have given anything to take away that mark; a mark that stood for more than physical pain, which was his loss of control. Unfortunately, he couldn't. What had happened was what he would have to deal with, and all he could hope for was that she accepted an apology. But how could he explain? He couldn't rationalize his actions unless he told her everything... everything that had happened to him during the last two weeks. No, he couldn't do that. She wouldn't understand. No one would. He wouldn't tell anyone.

"No one can know," he told himself.

"What, Kurosaki Ichigo?" Ichigo stopped short and looked up at Ulquiorra, who slid his eyes to meet Ichigo's. That look, cold and calculating, made him look away.

"Nothing." He expected to see Orihime look at him, but she didn't. He felt something inside of him sink.

A few minutes more of walking, and the three had arrived at Ichigo's rooms. Without a word, Ulquiorra waited until the two had filed in before closing and locking the door behind them.

Ichigo let out a breath as he felt Ulquiorra's reiatsu fade, and made to lie down on his couch, which was newly white again. He tried not to think about who had seen it, and to what conclusions they had come. He sat on the couch, and tried not to meet Orihime's eyes as she stood in front of him. He winced as he noticed the tears gathering in her eyes.

"Inoue, I'm sorry." When she said nothing, he looked away, eyebrows snapping together in a frown.

"Kurosaki-kun... Ichigo." His breath caught as he heard Orihime say his name for the first time. He looked at her, brown meeting gray.

"I know you're mad at me for getting you trapped here," she began tremulously.

Ichigo jumped to his feet as she said this. "No, I'm not." He wanted to take her hands in his, but he didn't want to touch her with his hands, so dirty after his stay in Las Noches; contaminated. He settled for placing his hands on her shoulders, shielded by the white cloth of her uniform. "I could never be angry with you."

"But then... why," she seemed to struggle with her thoughts. "Why did you..." she trailed off, touching her bruised cheek self-consciously.

"I'm sorry... Orihime. I never meant to hurt you." He hoped she could see the truthfulness of that statement in his eyes.

"I-Ichigo..." She could smell the scent of him, the scent she had come to love. His hands, warm through the fabric of her jacket, made her feel safe and loved. Orihime knew he meant what he said, so she wouldn't pry. She loved him, and she would do anything he asked her to.

Ichigo could feel Orihime leaning toward him, and his neck prickled with an absurd sense of fear. This was Orihime, sweet little Orihime whom he'd known for years. She couldn't, wouldn't, hurt him. Why did he feel such a sense of terror then, as her hands came to rest tentatively on his?

He choked, fear constricting his throat at her skin on his, "Orihime-"

"Ain't this just disgustingly cute?" a rough voice cut in as the door to the room flew open. Ichigo stepped away from Orihime, almost happy at being given an excuse to leave Orihime's contact, only to have his heart leap in alarm at the sight of the sexta espada.

"Ulquiorra told me Aizen had left you two alone together," he drawled, twirling Ichigo's Zangetsu in one hand. "And here I thought he was lyin', but look at you two, sharing secrets and all that sentimental shit." He grinned, showing off his sharp teeth. "This is gonna be fun."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Ichigo spat, regaining a sense of bravado with the return of his strength. Though the power that had rolled off of him before was long gone, he knew he could at least fend off Grimmjow. He had beaten him once before, he could do it again now that the inhibitor was gone.

"Don't play stupid, shinigami. You an' me had a good time together the other day. Aizen thought we should do it again, whaddya say?" The espada laughed, a sound that sent shivers down both redheads' spines. "C'mon, Kurosaki." Insane blue eyes met solid brown as Grimmjow brandished Zangetsu. "Let's play."


	7. 七 shichi

Ichigo sidestepped to avoid getting impaled by his own sword, but then surged forward again, putting all his strength behind a punch to Grimmjow's face. The blue-haired espada stumbled under the hit, but laughed in Ichigo's face and swung Zangetsu straight at him.

"I didn't know ya'd gotten your strength back! This is lookin' even better than I thought!" he shouted gleefully.

Ichigo managed to evade several more of the wild swings Grimmjow directed at him before backing into a wall. For a moment, the swift fight had made him forget that he was trapped inside a relatively small room with the espada. That one mistake was enough.

Grimmjow immediately thrust his stolen sword with both hands through Ichigo's shoulder and into the wall, pinning him. The espada laughed as the teen in front of him let out a small groan of pain, then frowned as he heard a whimper behind him. He looked over his shoulder to see the human girl, Orihime, trembling; from what, he didn't know, nor did he care to know.

He appeared in front of her instantaneously, a hand raised to knock the annoying little thing out of consciousness. Before he could even come an inch closer, a hand closed bruisingly around his wrist.

"This is our fight," Ichigo growled, swinging his reclaimed Zangetsu. "You leave Orihime _out_ of it!" And then they were swinging at each other again, swords, fists, and feet all seeking to do the most damage possible to their opponent. Eventually, it occurred to Ichigo that Grimmjow hadn't entered into his final released state. Even though they were both bleeding and bruised heavily, neither had entered into a stronger state of release; Ichigo because Orihime was still in the room, but Grimmjow...? What purpose would staying in his current form serve him?

Ichigo shook his head, wincing as Grimmjow's fist found its way into his stomach. Whatever the reason, Ichigo wanted to end this fight as quickly as possible. He grabbed Grimmjow's arm, twisted, threw the espada into a wall, and called, "Orihime!"

The girl was shaken out of her intense fear to pay attention to Ichigo's words.

"Orihime, go into the washroom and _stay there_. The walls are proofed against damage so you'll be safe." He grunted as he parried another of Grimmjow's kicks with his forearm. He was satisfied to see her figure nodding and then retreating in his peripheral vision.

"Why'd ya send the bitch away, Kurosaki?" Grimmjow asked cunningly while blocking a punch. "Afraid she'd see what I'm about to do to ya?"

Ichigo's heart skipped a beat, but he recovered quickly; fear fueled his speed, and with a strike not even Grimmjow could see coming, sunk Zangetsu deep into the espada's ribs.

"Lucky shot," he choked out, blood rising to his lips. Ichigo nearly grinned at the damage he'd caused, but his good mood fell as he saw a smirk form on Grimmjow's face. "Too bad ya just lost."

"Wha-"

Too late, he saw the cero in each of Grimmjow's hands. Ichigo lifted Zangetsu to block the huge masses of energy, but Grimmjow loosed them in a split second and Ichigo only had time to close his eyes before he was hit and lost consciousness in a haze of red.

Seconds later, Ichigo regained consciousness with a scream. Grimmjow had just broken his arm, and he smiled cunningly as the red haired boy looked at him through a haze of pain.

"Well, seems like ya woke up just in time for the fun, shinigami," Grimmjow laughed cruelly. As she stepped closer to the bathroom doorway, Orihime called out, "Ichigo-kun! Ichigo-kun, are you alright?"

"And your girlfriend, too," Grimmjow added. With a sense of horror and panic that left every hair on his body raised, Ichigo saw that his hakama were no longer tied securely to his hips; neither were Grimmjow's. The twisted grin he sent Ichigo's way as he lay contorted in pain on the floor told him exactly what the arrancar had in mind.

Ichigo began, "Orihime, _don't come any closer_!" and just as she stepped from the safety of the bathroom, Grimmjow flipped him over, broken arm colliding painfully with the floor as he tried to break his fall, and plunged his length into Ichigo.

Ichigo barely heard the gasp from his human friend, he was in such shock.

_I can't believe this is happening._

Not only was he suffering this humiliation again, someone he knew, someone from his everyday life was seeing it happen. And not just anyone, _Orihime_. Innocent, faithful, sweet Orihime was witnessing this ultimate shame. He was broken, defeated; and he had let her down.

He heard a breathy little shriek, followed by the thud of her knees colliding with the floor. "Ichigo-kun..."

Ichigo wouldn't look at her. Above him, Grimmjow laughed, still pumping into Ichigo's ass. With sick grin, the espada grabbed Ichigo by his hair and delivered a swift blow to his face, leaving Ichigo tasting blood.

"Idiot girl," he spat scornfully. "Can't even help ya, can she? What a worthless waste 'a space."

"Ichigo-kun," Orihime whispered again, trembling. She didn't know what to do. She could barely even comprehend what was happening to Ichigo; her brave, strong, Ichigo. What was she to do? She was no match against Grimmjow, but she had to stop this... this _rape_. There was simply no chance that Orihime would allow him to hurt Ichigo anymore, not when he'd been so brave and protecting ever since she became involved with the spirit world. She had to return the favor to her friend; to the man she loved. But what could she do?

With a sense of empowerment and new hope, she held her hands out to where Grimmjow kneeled next to _her_ Ichigo, and yelled, "_Shiten_ _michi o sokyaku_ (four sacred paths of rejection)!"

Even though she had never used the attack before, the words simply having presented themselves to her, she knew what she did was going to work. Tsubaki, surrounded by Hinagiku, Lily, and Baigon, formed in the shape of a large spear, and shot like a pistol for Grimmjow. It took a moment for her to realize, after her shun shun rikka had returned to her, that what she'd done had indeed hit the arrancar.

Grimmjow stared at her with an enraged expression on his face; she'd dared to attack him? That useless little brat? She looked back at him, frozen with a sudden fear.

Had it not worked? How? She was so sure... Then his look turned into one of shock and he twisted his torso around to see what he'd not noticed at first; Orihime had blasted a perfect circle straight through his chest, destroying heart, lungs, and other vital organs.

With one last look at her, he swore. "Dumb bitch."

And then he fell.

Barely aware of what was going on around him, having retreated to his inner world to escape the hell of reality, Ichigo only vaguely noticed that Grimmjow's body was gone from his. Still, he kept his eyes closed until he felt warm, timid fingers on his shoulders.

"Ichigo-kun." He opened his eyes; Orihime.

"Ichigo-kun, it's over," she whispered. "It's alright now."

His brown eyes gazed back at hers uncomprehendingly.

"Oh, Ichigo-kun," she sighed sadly, near to tears. "You're safe now. He's gone; Grimmjow is gone, he's never coming back. You're safe."

For some reason, he knew it was true; Orihime would never lie to him. Grimmjow was dead; he really was safe. Suddenly, loud words boomed throughout the air.

"_**Attention: Shinigami have infiltrated Las Noches. All able arrancar are to mobilize immediately. I repeat, the shinigami have entered Hueco Mundo and Las Noches, all units to mobilize immediately.**_"

Ichigo smiled, started laughing, and then began to cry.

Orihime held him, brushing gentle fingers through his orange shock of hair, and let his tears soak into her clothes.

Ichigo was a mess. The top of his shihakushou has been burnt away by Grimmjow's cero; the skin was red and blistering, some areas even bleeding sluggishly. His broken arm was twisted grotesquely, lying limply by his side. Bruises littered his arms, back, face, ribs; literally everywhere he could have been hit. What bothered Orihime most was the sight of Ichigo's bared buttocks and thighs; she could only keep seeing what Grimmjow had been doing, replaying it over and over in her head. She wondered if it had happened before...

No, she thought with a shake of her head, she didn't have time to think about that now. She needed to cover Ichigo up and start healing him. As she pulled Ichigo's hakama back over his hips and retied them; as she activated her shun shun rikka yet again, this time for healing, she lamented that she could heal only physical wounds. It would take time and understanding for Ichigo to heal mentally from what had been done to him. They didn't have that time here and now; but it hardly mattered. They would have the time later. The seireitei had not abandoned them.

They were saved.

* * *

He hadn't moved from the spot all day.

Sitting on the windowsill in his room, back propped up against the window frame, one leg swinging off the outside, Ichigo stared into the sky.

It had been a month since he and Orihime had been rescued from Las Noches. One month since he'd returned to Karakura Town. One month since he'd begun ignoring his substitute shinigami duties. One month since he'd begun ignoring anyone who wasn't Orihime.

Only she knew what had happened in Las Noches, and that was the way he wanted to keep it. Only Orihime could understand the reason why he acted like he did. Why he didn't let anyone but her near him.

_Ichigo sat on a bed in Squad Four's infirmary. Captain Unohana had just taken a blood sample to make sure all his body functions were working correctly. While she trusted Orihime's healing abilities, she just wanted to make sure that staying in Las Noches had had no lasting effects that the girl couldn't heal._

_After he'd been sure the captain had left, he put his arm down from the upright position it was meant to be held in, and lifted the cotton ball to see if the bleeding had stopped; it had. He shrugged and threw it in a garbage bin._

_As he was contemplating going to find what room they'd put Orihime in, he heard loud voices outside his room. He couldn't decipher what they were saying, but it seemed a man and woman were yelling at each other; he grinned a bit and bet himself that it was Rukia and Renji. The sounds of a scuffle and more yelling ensued before the door finally opened._

"_Fighting again?" Ichigo asked teasingly. Renji looked away with slight embarrassment, a hand going back to rub the top of his head. Rukia simply smiled and bound forward to give him a hug. Ichigo stiffened slightly, but restrained himself from pushing her away. Luckily, she pulled from the hug quickly to look at him._

"_I'm so glad you're alright, Ichigo! I don't know if anyone told you," she said, eyebrows furrowed, "but you were there for nearly a month!"_

"_Yeah," he said, looking askance of her face; he didn't want her to look into his eyes. It was irrational, he knew, but he thought that if anyone looked into his eyes they'd be able to tell what had happened. He wanted to appear just as normal as he'd been before he left. "Byakuya told me."_

_An awkward silence settled between the three. Rukia was slightly worried that Ichigo seemed even less talkative than usual. He was never very conversational, but he seemed even less inclined to speak now. Renji was torn between asking his friend how he'd been, but then realized that would be stupid; he'd been held hostage at Las Noches, he obviously hadn't been doing that great. Finally, he decided to just stay silent for fear of saying something totally moronic, like he was sometimes apt to do. Ichigo just looked at the two, avoiding Rukia's eyes, which were focused on his face, slightly slouched on the hospital bed._

_Finally, he decided that he would really like to find Orihime. He felt nervous, but he didn't know why. _It's Rukia and Renji!_ he thought to himself. They'd never do anything to hurt him, he knew. Still...._

_Just as he was getting up to go, Rukia said, "Oh!" and he froze, looking at her. Had she figured it out somehow? Did she know? But how could she? He panicked slightly, and waited for the words he had been dreading to just come out of her mouth; "You were raped."_

_But it didn't happen. She pointed at Renji, accusing. "You didn't even give Ichigo a hug!"_

_Immediately, Ichigo relaxed into the light atmosphere. He grinned ruefully as Renji put up his hands in protest._

"_Rukia! How many times have I told you that men don't hug? That shit's for girls!"_

"_Nonsense!" she proclaimed, glaring at him. "Go over there and give Ichigo a __**hug**_!_" On the word hug, Rukia shunpo'd behind Renji and pushed him forward. Caught completely off guard, Renji gave a very unmanly yip before falling right into Ichigo. The force of the shove and his weight pushed Ichigo flat on the hospital bed with Renji right on top of him._

_For a moment, his chest wouldn't cooperate with him; he couldn't breathe. All Ichigo knew was that the body on top of his felt like Grimmjow's – weight, height, muscle, build – and without a thought, he reacted._

_He pulled an arm back and punched the face of the person on top of him with all the strength he could muster. The force of the blow lifted the person off of him, but that wasn't enough, wasn't nearly enough. He kicked out at him, and the bed screeched on the floor as he pushed it back to get further away. All the time, he'd been screaming, "Get the fuck away from me! Get the __**fuck**__**away**__!" and any other variation that came to his mind. He just had to get away, far away, that was all he knew._

_Ichigo was left panting, pale and sweaty with fear; he reeked of it. His muscles twitched and trembled with the adrenaline running through his body. His eyes darted between the shocked faces of his two friends, Renji wiping away a trickle of blood falling from his split lip. He shut his eyes tight, holding onto the bed for support, back hunched. He couldn't take the look in their eyes; he had just had an episode in front of them – hell, he'd punched Renji, all because of a little physical contact. He wasn't fit to be around them._

_He needed Orihime._

_Without a word, Ichigo ran from the room, looking distressingly like a hunted animal, ignoring the shout from Rukia to stay, and the stunned look Renji still had on his face._

Ichigo didn't want to risk another incident like that. He knew Orihime was safe for him, so she was the only person he would let near him. He hadn't even talked to his family since he'd been back but for a brief conversation telling them he was alright, but he was feeling unwell and wanted to be left alone. Ichigo knew he was hurting his sisters' feelings, but he didn't want to scare them by witnessing one of his episodes. He wouldn't be able to handle that. Surprisingly, his dad seemed to understand his need for privacy, and honored his wishes to not be bothered. Kon took some convincing, but he was now staying at the Urahara Shouten.

And so he was left alone, just as he wanted

Right now, Ichigo was waiting for Orihime to return from buying take-out at a local restaurant. She'd gone out immediately at his request, but he hadn't realized how lonely he would be without her. When he saw her figure returning down the street, his heart leapt in his chest. He felt like jumping down from his window to greet her, but that would mean going back up through the house where his family was. It was already awkward enough when he bumped into them on his way to the bathroom. So he settled for waiting impatiently until she came up to his room.

They ate in silence, undisturbed by anything else. At least, Ichigo was undisturbed. He couldn't feel it, but Orihime was worried, tense, and frustrated.

She knew that helping Ichigo in his self-isolation was not doing him any favors. Actually, she thought it might have been hindering his recovery. But who was she to order him around? If Ichigo thought that what he was doing was best, she would support him. Still...

When they were done with their meal, Orihime laid a gentle hand on Ichigo's forearm. He looked up to her.

"Ichigo... please listen. I know that you're worried about what others will think about what happened... in Las Noches." She could feel his muscles stiffen beneath her touch, but she barreled on. "But I'm really worried about you. You spend all your time alone or with me, and it's not good for you. Ichigo, please, could you just open up? You need to talk about what happened to you. It won't be easy, I know, but maybe if you talked to someone, like Urahara-san for example-"

"No." Ichigo stood up quietly and retreated to his window seat, fine tremors racking his body.

"But Ichigo, you need-"

"No!" He turned on his heel to glare at her. "I said no, I don't want to talk about it, I don't need to talk about. I'm fine."

He paused and turned away again.

"Please leave."

"Ichigo..."

"Get out!"

Orihime jumped at the vehemence in his words, and without another word left, shutting Ichigo's bedroom door softly behind her. He turned his back on the window when he saw her leave the house, instead pacing back and forth in his room.

He was frustrated. Why did she have to go and bring it up? He was functioning well enough; life wasn't perfect, everyone knew that. This was just another bump in the road. He would get over it on his own. He didn't need anyone else to know what had been done to him, least of all old Hat-and-Clogs.

He bit his thumb, stopping in the middle of the room.

But even if he didn't want Urahara to know, that was no reason for him to blow up at Orihime. He choked back regret at having forced her to leave. He wanted her with him; he just didn't want her to bring up Las Noches. Was that too much to ask?

After a few more minutes of pacing, he made up his mind. Orihime wouldn't have gone anywhere but home this late; it was dark out by now, the moon already risen in the sky.

Before he could change his mind, Ichigo leapt from his window and landed on the pavement outside the house. Quickly, he walked along the darkened streets to Orihime's apartment.

About halfway there, Ichigo started to get the feeling he was being watched. However, he could sense no reiatsu, and so he ignored the feeling. A voice in his head nastily told him he was probably just being overly paranoid. Still, he began to walk faster unconsciously, trying to get to Orihime; his rock, his safe haven.

His mood visibly lightened when her apartment came into view. His face lost some of its scowl, and his steps felt lighter. A figure was standing in the shadows of the staircase.

He called out, "Orihime!"

The figure didn't move.

He mentally kicked himself. She was probably fed up with him, and his yelling at her had been the last straw.

"Orihime... I'm sorry." He took a deep breath. "I didn't mean to yell, I just- I just got carried away. Can you forgive me?"

"I'm sorry, Ichigo." The voice that answered him was not Orihime's. He froze as Rukia came out of the shadows.

"Rukia... What are you doing here? Where's Orihime?" Ichigo looked past her to try and find Orihime's brightly colored hair, but instead Tessai came from the depths of shadows.

"What are you-"

"_Carriage of Thunder. Bridge of a spinning wheel. With light, divide this into six! _Binding spell sixty-one!"

Immediately, he was frozen, trapped by six beams of light around his torso. He watched with growing anxiety as Rukia approached him. "I _am_ sorry."

In one swift movement, she brought the hilt of her sword down on Ichigo's temple and he was knocked into unconsciousness.


	8. 八 hachi

**AN**: I really have to thank all of my readers for this chapter even existing. I was in a rut - a deep and terrible rut. I couldn't write a goddamn thing for this chapter without it sounding like complete shit. But the amazing responses I got to this story finally shoved me off my ass and got me writing again. I am proud to say that _Captive_ finally has a new installment, and it's thanks to all my reviewers. Seriously guys, give yourselves a hand. The rut has been breached, and I hope to begin writing regularly again for this story. I hope you enjoy this chapter, and those still to come.

* * *

He woke up later to the sound of Orihime's voice. For a moment, he forgot everything, soothed by the pleasant, relaxing qualities of her soft voice. But as he listened and his awareness returned, he could make out the words she was speaking – something about Las Noches – and then Rukia's voice chimed in.

He remembered.

Ichigo sat up to find himself in a spare room of Urahara's place. He could recognize the traditional stylings in a moment with all the time he'd spent there training, recovering, and learning from Hat-n-Clogs. He didn't know why Rukia had done what she'd done, or why she'd taken him here, but he could already feel the uncomfortable prickling of anxiety creeping over him.

Ignoring the pounding in his head from having Rukia's sword hilt smashed into it not too long ago, he stood, immediately looking for a window. There were none, probably an intentional move, and besides, Orihime was inside. He didn't want to face anyone, but he wasn't willing to leave without her, either. With a deep breath, he slid the door open and stepped into the hall.

It was quiet except for the soft clinks of china and even softer voices. He followed the sounds until he reached Urahara's dining room, and was confronted with Orihime and Rukia's stares. He instinctively moved toward Orihime's comforting image and away from Rukia's harshness.

"Orihime, what's going on?" he asked, trying his hardest to keep the note of panic out of his voice. He ignored Rukia.

"Ichigo-kun..." Orihime let her voice trail off. "I've been really worried about you. You won't talk to anyone but me, you haven't been eating as well as you should – you almost never leave your room." Her gray eyes met his, bright with unshed tears. "I thought you could get better on your own, but... you need help."

Immediately, he denied it.

"I'm doing fine, Orihime," he lied. "There was no need to get anyone else involved-"

A heavy, distinctly masculine hand landed hard on his shoulder.

Panic, white and dazzling, blossomed behind his eyes. Immediately, Ichigo turned and haphazardly flung a fist where the face of the hand's owner must be. A strangled cry began in his throat when his fist was effortlessly caught, but not to be deterred, he threw his other fist at them. Only when that one was caught too, and he could hear himself chanting "Don't, don't, don't!" over and over again, did he register who stood in front of him.

Urahara's intense, unusually serious blue eyes shone out from under the darkness of his hat. They stared at Ichigo until he couldn't stand the look he found there anymore and shut his eyes resignedly.

"No need?" the shopkeeper repeated quietly. "I think there was every need."

Urahara released his grasp on the boy's wrists as they began to tremble, stepping away from him to sit at the table.

"You need help, Ichigo." Rukia spoke quietly, but strongly.

"I don't want any help," he spat, "especially not from you."

A pause, then, "That may well be true, but even if you don't want help, you need it. And I don't care what you say, I'll be here to help you."

"Ichigo," Orihime's soft voice called out. He turned slightly at her voice, leaning into the light touch of her hand on his arm. Her soft fingers rubbed his bare arm soothingly. "Please. Please let us help you."

He swallowed harshly, Adam's apple bobbing under his skin. The seconds ticked by.

"Alright," he said hoarsely. "Alright." Ichigo closed his eyes again, and when he opened them they were hardened with determination.

"But I want you and Rukia to leave," he said, hardly able to force the words from his throat. He wanted her with him, but... he had obviously caused Orihime enough pain. He wouldn't force her to relive the horrors; she'd already seen enough after all. And Rukia... He didn't need to look at her to know where she was. She wasn't happy, but it wasn't as if he was very happy with her, either.

After a moment, "Are you sure?"

"Yeah, Orihime," he said softly. "I'm sure."

"Well," said Urahara from his seat at the table. Ichigo flinched at his deep voice. "Kurosaki-kun will stay with me while he recovers. Rukia, you'll tell his family that Ichigo is going on a spur-of-the-moment beach retreat with his friends." The small, dark-haired shinigami left.

"Orihime." She looked at the shopkeeper. "I'll contact you."

"O-of course." With one last look at Ichigo's turned-away face, and a reassuring squeeze to his arm, she left too. Now he and the shopkeeper were alone. Ichigo couldn't sense Tessai or the kids in the house, or even Yoruichi. It was just him and Urahara.

"You can sit if you like," Urahara stated mildly. From the corner of his eye, Ichigo saw that the older man was focused intently on his tea, almost ignoring him.

"No, thanks," he ground out. Ichigo closed his eyes again, and took in a deep breath. His fists, which had been clenched at his sides, relaxed. He breathed in and out for a few minutes, feeling calmer for it.

The panic was receding somewhat, but he still didn't quite know what to do with himself. Urahara's presence was making him uncomfortable, and he felt stupid for feeling that way – it was Mr. _Hat-n-Clogs_ – Ichigo shouldn't have been afraid of _him_. But he couldn't get past the fact that Urahara was nearly the same height as Grimmjow, couldn't see past the fact that Urahara was so blatantly _male_, no matter the differences between the two. He only felt safe next to small, feminine Orihime. And that made him feel stupid, too.

The minutes ticked by in silence. When Ichigo was about to leave, Urahara said, "The basement is available to you if you feel the need to practice with Zangetsu. If you want to spar with anyone, feel free to ask." He calmly went back to sipping his tea.

Ichigo hesitated for a moment, but kept walking. His feet led him back to the room he'd woken up in, and after shutting the door, he sat back down on the futon.

He dozed lightly for a few hours and only went back to the kitchen when he got hungry.

Urahara wasn't there.

Several days passed this way. Ichigo would attempt to sleep for once without nightmares about unwanted hands, blue hair, and reptilian green eyes – and fail. He walked around Urahara's shop like a ghost, haunting the halls simply for something to do. Urahara watched him once – the teen couldn't even round a corner without first checking to make sure nothing was there. He spent long amounts of time in the shower, and out of the clothes Rukia had delivered to Urahara from Ichigo's house, Ichigo chose the baggiest to wear.

In short, he was nothing like the Kurosaki-kun Urahara once knew.

He attempted to talk to him sometimes, always about innocuous topics like the weather or baseball, but Ichigo only gave short answers.

The blonde shopkeeper decided he would give him a little more time to adjust to life without Orihime always by his side.

One day, two weeks into his stay, Ichigo passed by the trapdoor to the basement training area. He slowed to look at it. On top of the wooden platform lay a piece of soul candy, obviously in case he wanted to discard his body for training. He wondered absently just how long it had been there, waiting for him to use it.

He eyed the small tablet for a moment before hurriedly picking it up and swallowing, almost to prevent himself from changing his mind. His soul departed from his body with no resistance.

"Go to sleep in my room," he ordered the generic soul. Without watching to see if it obeyed, Ichigo removed the trapdoor and descended to the grounds.

He clutched Zangetsu in his hands, the cool metal a comfort under his tense fingers. He had missed his old friend – he hadn't been in this form for months. Not since Las Noches.

Dismissing the unpleasant thought, Ichigo pointed his zanpakutou at an outcropping of rock.

"Alright," he growled, feeling the power grow under his fingertips. "Let's do this."

* * *

When Urahara woke the next morning, he found Ichigo's body in the kitchen eating some of the rice he'd prepared, the permanent scowl noticeably absent.

"Where is he?" he asked the mod soul quietly.

"Basement," it replied concisely.

"How long has he been down there?"

"Since last night."

Urahara was slightly alarmed. He had wanted Ichigo to get rid of some frustration, not exhaust himself. The shopkeeper made his way down the ladder and into the training area, testing the air for the teen's reiatsu. He found him about halfway into the room, decimated rock formations in his wake letting Urahara just how long he'd been at it. He sighed when he actually saw him.

Ichigo was sitting against one of the still-intact ledges of earth, knees raised, arms resting on them. His forehead was creased even more than it usually was, and he looked to be in the middle of brooding. A few yards away, Zangetsu was embedded in the ground. For once, Urahara wasn't sure what approach he should take.

"We got into a fight," Ichigo supplied unexpectedly. His fists clenched as he stared at nothing.

"What about?" Urahara asked lightly.

"Zangetsu doesn't think I should be ignoring what... happened," he said, the distaste obvious in his voice. "He thinks I should be talking to someone about it."

"I see." The blonde man stopped a few yards away from Ichigo and looked out at Zangetsu. "Do you think that maybe you might try his idea?"

Ichigo turned his sharp gaze on him.

"And who would I talk to?" he asked heatedly. "Orihime knows most of it already, and you saw how much she's upset about it. Renji would be just as uncomfortable, and Rukia..." He frowned again, looking away. "She wouldn't understand."

"What about me, Kurosaki-kun?" he asked seriously.

"You?" He looked surprised at the very suggestion. After a pause, he finally said, "No. I couldn't."

"And why not?"

"Because-" he broke off. He took another breath to try again. "Because if I do, you'll look down on me. You all will," he muttered, finally getting to the truth of it. "And I couldn't handle that."

"And you can handle it now?" the shopkeeper asked. Ichigo looked at him in confusion. "Kurosaki-kun, if you think your friends don't know that something happened, then you are seriously underestimating them. The longer you continue to act the way you are – skittish, antisocial, the all around not-Ichigo traits – you'll still lose. Maybe not their respect," Urahara corrected, "but maybe their friendship."

"And you think," Ichigo said falteringly, "that by- by talking about it-"

"You'll return to the old Kurosaki-kun," Urahara confirmed. "Besides," he said, going out on a limb, "you know that by acting this way you're letting them win."

"What?" The response was sharp and quick.

"Aizen and his army," he clarified, noting the slight flinch at the defector's name. "By pushing people away and becoming this recluse, you're letting whatever he did to you crush you. Do you want that? Do you want to let Aizen and his Espada destroy you?"

"No!" he burst out. "No, I don't, but I don't know what to do." He suddenly radiated energy, standing as the words rushed out of him. "Every night I dream that I'm back there; that I'm helpless because of that damned inhibitor! And then one of them- one of them comes in and, and it happens _all over again_! I'm exhausted! When I sleep I'm reminded of Las Noches, but if I don't it reminds me of the damned place all the same! I can't even walk around your _house_," he laughed bitterly, "without looking around the corners as if someone's going to jump out at me at any moment." He fell silent, glaring at the ground.

"It's pathetic. _I'm_ pathetic."

Ichigo jumped at the sudden slithering sound of a sword clearing its sheath. He stared at Hat-n-Clogs questioningly. He received no answer.

Without warning, Urahara darted forward.

Ichigo barely made it out of the way of Benihime as she cut into the air where he'd just been standing.

"What the hell!-"

He stumbled and flash stepped again, but this time he didn't get away quite unscathed. A thin, red line appeared across his chest, a small amount of blood beading through the broken skin – but the blonde didn't let up. He jabbed, slashed, and sliced at the red haired teen until he was panting with the effort needed to stay out of harm's way. The fact that Urahara was so close to Ichigo didn't even phase him. His thoughts were all consumed with just getting out of the way.

Finally spotting an opening, Ichigo managed to grab Zangetsu and swing him around just in time to block a bone-shattering blow from Benihime. He gritted his teeth in effort, sweat dripping off his body as his muscles worked to keep him alive.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Ichigo hissed.

Urahara's intense blue eyes suddenly met his. Ichigo stilled.

"I am trying to kill you," Urahara stated quietly and simply. "Right now, I am your enemy. My goal is to dispose of you so that I can do whatever it is you are preventing me from doing. I don't care about your family, your nightmares, your troubled past – about anything. All that matters at the end of the day is that you are dead, and I am alive." He put more pressure into his block, sliding Benihime against Zangetsu with a soft screech. He asked Ichigo, "Do you understand?"

For a moment, Ichigo's face was still a blank. But then it filled with comprehension.

"In that case," Ichigo stated, pushing back at Urahara, "I guess I'd better forget about all that junk, too." With a shout, he threw Urahara off of him. The shopkeeper landed lightly some feet away and grinned.

"I guess so."


End file.
